Scars of a Survivor
by Tears of the Moon 17
Summary: Even though Bones is sure the transfusion will work, he must be prepared in case it doesn't. Upon discovering that Jim has a will, Bones sees two names: Kevin Riley and Thomas Leighton. With them under the impression that he's preparing them, Bones brings them to the hospital which triggers events that leads the crew to find out just how broken James Tiberius Kirk is. *Tarsus IV*
1. Prologue

Disclaimer- I truly do _not_ own Star Trek.

Okay, let me tell this to you straight: I have _no_ knowledge of Star Trek outside of the 2009 movie and _Star Trek: Into Darkness_. Since I was always more of a Star Wars person, I never really sat down and watched Star Trek. You know what that means, right? It means that I'll probably (yeah, more like _definitely_) get some stuff wrong such as: personalities, technology, their terms and other things. But am I going to let that stop me? No! Even if I wanted to (which I kind of do . . .), this plot bunny will not shut up! Well, it's more like an idea . . . Anyway, I hope you enjoy and review.

. . . . . . You know, on second thought, maybe you should just turn back. -_-

**Warning-** Characters may be OOC (out of character for those who are new to this site's lingo). No, I'm serious. I don't know how well I can portray Spock. *grimace* You Trekkies are going to kill me . . . I just know it.

Note- I have other fanfics (that I seriously need to update) so understand if it takes me awhile to update.

**IMPORTANT NOTE-** I call him James in the prologue to make it more serious (seriously, I giggled when he died because I called him Jim) and because in my mind, "James" is Jim the captain, JT the Tarsus IV survivor and Jimmy the abused kid all combined to make one, messed up person. Hope you understand!

**Prologue**

James Tiberius Kirk was tired, so tired of always being the one to save others at the expense of himself. He was tired of being the one capable of pulling off impossible feats and surviving to see the fruits of his labor. He was tired of having the weight of the universe on his broad shoulders, of bearing memories he tried again and again to escape.

He was just so _tired_.

He just wanted to give up, to let someone else save the day.

But even though James was tired, he knew that he had to save the day _just one more time_. That's all he had to do to allow himself to pass on peacefully, to finally let go his obsessive need to save everyone and everything. Then he could let go. Yes, _then_ he could let his fire die and flicker no longer.

_Just one more time._

_Just one more time._

_Just one more time._

James kept chanting this in his mind as he fought his dying body, pushing himself closer and closer to the object that save his entire crew. It was dancing in his vision, taunting him with the possibility that James might just _not _make it, that he might just _fail_. Grunting, he pushed and pushed his body, unwilling to lose to a thing such as death. No, death could have him _after_ he fixed this problem and knew that his crew, his second family was okay.

_Just one more time . . ._

_Yes, just one, last time . . ._

His body protested and ached in ways that James didn't know it could ache. The pain was unbearable but familiar, reminding him of childhood memories that were tinted in blood and cries. His face twisted as he pushed his body to climb, trying to block out those scenes from his life. The climbing took much energy from his body and his lungs burned, screaming at him that they were dying from the toxic air. James smiled grimly for a moment, thinking about he was briefly grateful that he was used to pain and could withstand it.

Because if he hadn't been subjected to such pain before, James would have died before he got halfway to his destination.

_Just a little further . . ._

_. . . last time._

James' body felt like lead as he pulled himself up, kicking at the central component with what strength he had left. After a few weak tries, the thing did not budge and James knew time was running out fast. If he couldn't get it to move, everyone would die and leave families and family members behind. That thought made him sick. What if someone on the ship had a kid? What if the kid was just a baby? What if that kid never got to know his or her parent? What if that kid got the childhood he did?

_Just one . . . more . . . time . . ._

_. . . Please._

Gathering all his remaining strength, James Tiberius Kirk did what everyone had always looked to him to do.

He saved the day.

When James saw the glow and heard the rumble, a faint smile found its way onto his face. He had done it . . . He had done it . . .

_One . . . last . . . time._

The edges of his vision turned black and threatened to overtake what strength he had left. But James didn't care. He had done his final rescue, had saved the day for the last time. That was enough. He had no regrets, nothing that he wished to say. James was down for the count and had no intention of getting back up.

He was tired and would finally get the rest he deserved.

As he left his eyes slip close, James felt his body tumble down the way he had come up. His body managed to roll near the inner door, the door he would have to pass and shut if he wanted to live. But why would he? This was his chance to sleep without wondering if he'd wake up back on Tarsus IV with Kodos torturing him for information. This was his chance to sleep deeply without being constantly aware of his surroundings.

This was his chance to stop being James Tiberius Kirk, survivor of Tarsus IV, son of the hero George Kirk and the kid who constantly had something broken.

So, again, why would he want to go back to that? Why would he want to go back to a world where Kodos was still in hiding and his mother didn't care if he lived or died? Why would he want to go back to a world where his own brother thought he wasn't worth protecting?

. . . Why would he go back to a world where he pretended to be a strong man but was actually nothing more but a broken child?

Dimly, James heard Scotty frantically banging on the door and yelling at him to get up, to not let himself die. He wanted to laugh at Scotty's attempts and explain that before he even stepped a foot into this place, James was already dead. He practically had been an animated corpse these past eleven years, dead on the inside but clearly alive on the outside. Sure, these past few years he had gotten better but how long would that last? After all, he was merely _pretending_ to be whole and that it was all an act.

Yes . . . James was broken.

And what do you do with broken toys?

You throw them away.

_Right, Mother?_

"James, get _up!_"

James' hands twitched as if they wanted to listen to Scotty's demand but James didn't want to. He just wanted to die in peace . . .

Was that too much to ask?

" . . . Engineering to bridge, Mr. Spock-"

_Spock_.

That name brought up memories, memories that happened just days ago. These memories spoke of the time that Spock had been willing to die in a volcano . . .

Kind of like how James was willing to die right now.

_This . . . different . . ._

Yes, this situation _was_ different. Spock hadn't been tired like James was right now. He hadn't experienced what James had, hadn't learned how to survive with little food and most certainly hadn't been thrown off a roof twice by his stepfather.

But . . . maybe there was a similarity.

Someone didn't want him to die.

James' face twisted as he groaned, turning over to drag himself a few yards to the second door. How could he expect his crew to let him die when he hadn't been willing to let any one of them die? How could he expect for them to not feel the same way? How could he let them think that he didn't _try_ hard enough to live?

That was just it.

He couldn't.

That was why he was dragging himself closer and closer to the door. He would at least _try_ to live but he was sure that he wouldn't.

But at least he would try.

". . . Better hurry."

Just as James reached the second door, Spock came jogging to it and demanded that Scotty open the door.

_Same old Spock._

James could feel his body begging to stop this torture, to shut his eyes and let death finally take him. But James couldn't do it now. He remembered now that a few days ago, he had wished he had the words to explain to Spock why he couldn't just let him die. He needed to get it off his chest before he would allow himself to pass on. Spock needed to understand that James had reacted like any other friend would have, like any _human_ friend would have.

Gasping for air he simply didn't have, James pulled the lever that would close the inner door and allow his confined space to be decontaminated. He knew that this action was pointless since he was already halfway dead but he knew that they would wish to retrieve his body. Also, he needed them to think that he _tried_, that there had been nothing else he could have done. Yes, they needed to think that Captain Jim wasn't an act, that it was his true face. They didn't need to know that Captain Jim was just the one part of James that was kind of okay. They didn't need to know that he had more sides to him than Captain Jim. They didn't need to know how much he had suffered in his short life span. The truth would only hurt them.

Forcing his eyes to open, James turned his head and looked up at Spock.

"How's our ship?"

He couldn't help but delay the emotional conversation they would surely have. He had never been good with emotions and getting them out in the open . . .

And he had never liked goodbyes either.

Spock, blinking a couple of times out of what James thought was surprise, answered James. "Out of danger."

"Good," James breathed out, trying to keep his pain hidden from Spock.

Spock gazed at him with a flicker of emotion in his eyes. "You saved the crew."

James was tempted to give Spock a look and say "no, really?" but he didn't. He knew that it wasn't the time and that Spock needed someone to tell him that he had done a good job because he looked like he was about to cry. That terrified James. Surely Spock wasn't blaming himself for James' condition?

"You used what he wanted against him," James whispered, desperately trying to show Spock that he was ready to step up in his place. "That's a nice move."

Spock's expression softened just a bit as he slightly shook his head. "It is what you would have done."

Spock couldn't have possibly been more wrong. Since James saw too much of himself in Khan, he wouldn't have been able to do it. He would have seen himself in a completely different light . . .

He would have seen himself as Kodos.

But James knew what Spock meant. James definitely would have found some way to trick Khan and would have succeeded too.

"And this," James breathed out, locking his eyes with Spock's once again. "This is what you would have done. It's only logical."

James used Spock's L-word in the hope that he would be able to convey that Spock needed to think like himself _and_ James at the same time. He needed Spock to understand that while sometimes you need to be strategic and logical, you also needed to be tricky and emotional too. Both ways would come in handy.

"I'm scared, Spock . . . Help me not be."

Those words slipped from James' tongue and tumbled out into the air. He hadn't meant to confess this certain fear but it had found its ways out of him, letting Spock see it. But James hadn't wanted anyone to know because they would ask him why and he couldn't tell them without telling them about Tarsus IV.

And that was something he could never do.

Seeing that Spock was desperately trying to hold back his emotions, James tried to distract him. "How do you choose not to feel?"

After a moment of silence, Spock shook his head with lines on his face that screamed emotion. "I do not know. Right now, I am failing."

James heard Spock's thick voice with emotion and wanted to kick himself. He was making Spock, the emotionless half Vulcan, show emotions that seemed to be sadness and grief. How heartless could you get? Now he wished that he hadn't dragged himself over here. Then Spock wouldn't be on the verge of losing control and wouldn't have to watch James die.

But if he hadn't, he wouldn't have been able to explain something very important to Spock.

"I want you to know why I couldn't let you die . . . why I went back for you."

"Because you are my friend," Spock said as he looked at James, his face showing too much.

_So he does understand . . ._

James had thought that because Spock hadn't had any friends as a child on Vulcan, he didn't understand how strong the bond of friendship was. As friends, James couldn't let him die when he knew that he could save him. At the time, he thought that Spock could never understand that but he had been wrong.

Spock _did_ understand.

Feeling his heartbeat starting to fail, James grunted as he pressed his left hand against the glass and watched as Spock did the same. Moving his fingers to match Spock's, James looked up at an emotional Spock and tried to get just one more sentence out that he hoped would ease Spock.

_I'm sorry._

But he was unable to get those two mere words out, to make Spock feel better. So he tried a smile, a smile that he hoped would resemble his signature one that made everyone laugh.

Unknown to James, his face was unable to make one, last smile as the darkness took over his eyes and the light died in his eyes. His left hand fell from the glass and joined his side, causing the Vulcan to feel a whirlpool of emotions.

James Tiberius Kirk was no more.

**A/N-** So . . . How was it? I figured I'd start here since it's one of my favorite scenes in the movie. Please review! This was published on 10-7-13 and had the length of 2,555 words.


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer- I don't own Star Trek.

I'm totally messing with everything~ No, Jim is _not_ going to have good relationship with his mother. I've read ST fanfics where he does but I don't want to do that. I know everyone's done it but I want to do it a little differently. Okay, the little **-****STSTSTSTSTSTST****- **is a line break. I wanted to make it stand out . . . I love all the reviews so keep reviewing! (Just please don't kill me for the way I've portrayed Bones!)

**IMPORTANT NOTE-** I called him James in the prologue to make it more serious (seriously, I giggled when he died because I called him Jim) and because in my mind, "James" is Jim the captain, JT the Tarsus IV survivor and Jimmy the abused kid all combined to make one, messed up person. Hope you understand!

**Note 2-** _Italics_ are thoughts when used on sentences and emphasis on one or two words. _**Bold italics**_ are letters (and songs if I include them later on . . . probably won't).

**Note 3-** I don't use cuss words in my fanfics so . . . yeah.

C**hapter One**

Crumbled paper littered the countertops, the floor and the desk that Dr. McCoy was currently passed out at. They bore black markings that resembled medical symbols and theories that came from the sleeping doctor. If you looked closely, the black markings were sometimes words that spoke of the doctor's doubt that Khan's blood would revive his fallen captain and friend.

_Is Khan's blood compatible? _

_Will the blood have permanent effects?_

_. . . Will Jim's revival be temporary?_

Those words were underlined several times and had several question marks. It was obvious that these questions were nagging the good doctor and was the main focus of his little project. Beside those sentences were math problems that only a doctor could understand and scribbled out formulas that were proven to be useless or incorrect.

But if you reached the bottom, you would see a certain formula that had been circled in black several times.

It would seem that the good doctor had figured it out.

He would be able to save his friend.

**-****STSTSTSTSTSTST****-**

Dr. Leonard McCoy was at war with himself.

One hand, his heart was sick with relief. After hours and hours of working out formulas and tweaking with Khan's miraculous blood, he had found a way to bring back Jim back. He had found a way to fix the bleeding wound that Jim's death had left in the heart of the crew, of _Jim's_ crew. Their grief, their _loss_ couldn't possibly be described with a few mere English words. Heck, Bones was sure that if Spock tried with his native tongue, he still wouldn't be able to form a sentence to convey just _how much_ Jim's death took out of them. It was like Jim had taken their souls, their hearts with him on his way to the afterlife.

But that didn't matter anymore.

He had found a way to fix their suffering and to breathe life back into Jim.

That was just it though.

You see, on Bones' other hand, his mind was being ravaged by fear and doubt. Even though Bones had studied Khan's blood for hours, he didn't _truly_ understand it. Sure, he understood how it could fix what was broken in a human (and other species) body but he didn't understand the blood itself. Khan's blood was cloaked in mystery and was unpredictable in ways, ways that scared Bones out of his wits. He didn't know how long it would take Jim's body to recover from the radioactive poisoning and . . .

. . . He didn't know just how _long_ it would keep Jim alive and among the living.

So far the tribble was perfectly healthy and was very active but how long would that last? Would it live to see its lifespan to the end? Or would the tribble live for a few more months? Would Khan's blood lose its potency? Or was it everlasting in another body? Just how long could Bones and his friends expect to have Jim around?

Bones didn't want to consider the option that Khan's blood would only prologue Jim's death, making it inevitable.

But he had to.

He had to prepare his follow crewmembers for the worse scenario. They _had_ to be mentally and emotionally prepared to once again say goodbye to their beloved captain. They couldn't afford to _not_ to. Jim didn't need to see grief maul their hearts as he laid on his deathbed. No, Jim deserved a better sendoff than that. He deserved to be enveloped by death with the warmth of his friends beside him. He deserved to have a sweet goodbye wrapped up in smiles, to not know just _how much_ his death will eat away at their minds-

_It's all Jim's fault that I'm thinking this way, all his fricking fault. I'm going to kill him when he wakes up-_

No, not _when_ he wakes up. _If_ he wakes up.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Bones turned his eyes to see Jim's sleeping form in the hospital bed and found himself on the brink of tears. Bones, even with his excellent medical skill, couldn't force Jim to wake up from his coma. Though Bones theorized that Jim would awaken once his body completely recovered, he knew that there was a chance that he _wouldn't _wake up. That chance, no matter how much Bones wanted to ignore it, was something that he had to take into account. Because if Jim didn't wake up, that would mean the blood hadn't done what it was supposed to do. It would mean that Bones' cure had failed.

Jim would die . . . _again._

But this time Bones would know that he _could have_ done something (even though he had no more of Khan's blood to make a different cure and he was dead) and that he had failed. He would know that it was indeed his fault and his alone. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happened. No, Bones would also die in his own way and so would the crew.

Everything would be broken then.

And this time . . . There wouldn't any fixing it.

Because the one person who could fix it would be forever beyond their reach, just slightly glazing their outstretched fingers.

And it would be torture, too much torture for them to bear.

That was why Bones had to prepare his friends. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't at least _try_ to prevent this possible scenario from playing out. But his friends weren't the only ones he had to prepare. There was Jim's mother and brother. Bones hadn't met either one of them though and was slightly reluctant to contact them. Jim hadn't spoken of his mother at all and had only a few rough words to say about his brother. Back then Bones hadn't asked about the situation concerning his family but now he wished he had the guts back then to ask. This way he'd know how to go about talking to his family. Should he bluntly tell them of the situation? Break it to them gently? Or merely bring them to see Jim's condition and work from there?

Why, oh, _why_ hadn't Jim given Bones a set of instructions to deal with this matter?

Eyes flashing, Bones faintly remembered Jim saying something about a will, _his _will a few months ago. Jim had mumbled something about wanting to make sure that some things were taken care of if he died unexpectedly.

_But where would it be? Surely he wouldn't hide it if he wanted someone to find it._

But it'd be like Jim if he hid it in a book or something. The kid was always sneaky and paranoid like that. If he _did_ hide it, he probably put it where no one would look for it. But where would that be? In his dirty clothes? In a drink? Heck, just _where_ would he hide his will-

A thought hit Bones just then.

_A place where no one would look . . . He wouldn't . . . would he?_

As Bones logged onto Jim's medical file and went to the personal section, his eyes moved from side to side, searching for the will that Jim had spoken of. A moment later, Bones' mouth opened slight and his eyes glistened just a little bit.

There, in Jim's personal section of his medical file, lied the will that Jim had mumbled about just months ago. But that wasn't what was making Bones' throat swell with emotion. It was the little digital note that Jim had left just for him.

_**So, Bones, if you're reading this note, then I'm dead. I guess my luck finally ran out on me, huh? You always told me that'd happen but I'm just too stubborn (or stupid) to listen. I don't really know what to say in this note other than that. I've never really be able to communicate when feelings are involved, you know? It's never been one of my strong points. Man, now I can't nag Spock about that, can I? Well, I can't anyway since I'm dead . . . Okay, what was it that I wanted to say? Oh yeah. I remember now.**_

_**Bones, whatever happened to me **_**was not your fault.**_** Get that through your thick skull right now. Whatever stupid thing I did or whatever stupid thing that managed to kill me **_**is not your fault**_**. I don't care if you were there or what. Just get rid of your guilt right now. Now I don't care if you try to bring me back (knowing you, you'll bring me back just to kill me yourself) but if you fail, don't blame yourself, okay? You can't save everyone, Bones. That's something both you and I need to learn. **_

_**You, we can't save everyone. Sometimes people, good people, are going to die. And sometimes we'll get the bad guys. **_

_**But we can't save everyone. **_

_**Remember that, Bones . . . **_

_**And remember that I'm part of that everyone . . . Obviously.**_

_**Just take care of yourself, okay? And watch out for the others. They need someone I trust to take care of them. **_

_**Your Captain,**_

_**Jim**_

Bones breathed deeply after he finished the note, forcing back his tears and curse words that his tongue yearned to lash out at Jim. How could Jim, the ever confident captain, consider the possibility of dying so calmly? Anyone else, Spock excluded, would have freaked out and not been able to write this kind of kind. So why had Jim been so calm, so freakishly calm during this note?

This new side of Jim was scaring Bones. To see that Jim could accept his death so easily was frightening and enlightening. What kind of man is okay with a scenario in which he dies? Seriously? Just _what kind_ of man was Jim really?

After shaking those kinds of thoughts out of his head, Bones went on to read the will. He could always ask Jim once he had recovered and woken up. Yes, he would ask Jim when he had the chance.

Moments later, Bones frowned when he reached two unfamiliar names.

Kevin Riley and Thomas Leighton.

Who were these two men to Jim? Cousins? Childhood friends? And why hadn't Jim mentioned them?

Sighing to himself, Bones glanced at the two numbers that were by the two unfamiliar names. Jim had specifically written in his will that he wanted these two men notified first, not his mother and brother. Actually, once Bones turned his gaze towards the bottom of the page, there was no information about his mother and brother. It was like they didn't exist.

_More like Jim purposely left them out_.

So what was Bones to do about contacting Jim's mother and brother? Would he track them down after calling Kevin and Thomas? Or would he leave to them find out on their own? Bones shook his head. No person deserved to find out about a relative's death that way. He would wait to track them down after he did what Jim had instructed him to do first.

Dialing the first number that belonged to Kevin Riley, Bones sat down in the chair next to Jim's sleeping form.

These were going to be some _very_ interesting phone calls.

**A/N-** Like? No, seriously, did you like it? Was it okay? Please review! This was published on 11-4-13 and with the length of 2,112 words.


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